Old Ladies Against Underwater Garbage Join HCT For Pond Cleanup

HARWICH – The siren song of submerged trash is irresistible to an incredible superteam of seasoned, water-resistant women who won't rest until the rubbish is removed.

Meet Old Ladies Against Underwater Garbage, a Cape-based group that plumbs the depths of local ponds in a bold quest to get rid of the junk that went kerplunk.

OLAUG teamed up with Harwich Conservation Trust (HCT) recently for an underwater cleanup at Cahoon Road Beach, a popular swim spot on Long Pond. It felt like a party with a purpose as the grande dames of debris prepared for their aquatic adventure by donning wetsuits, reviewing safety guidelines and cracking jokes.

Susan Baur, who founded OLAUG in 2017, said it took a while for the group to gain steam. The velocity has ramped up considerably in recent years, with OLAUG features appearing in the New York Times, Boston Globe and Christian Science Monitor, as well as coverage by Boston TV stations, CBS, CNN and NPR. During the Long Pond excursion, they were accompanied by a BBC reporter who had commissioned a rowboat to document the trashy proceedings.

Before the birth of OLAUG, Baur was a frequent swimmer in local ponds, where she began to bond with turtles. "I found out that they were as interested in me as I was in them, and that was a game changer," she said.

But as turtle appreciation bloomed, Baur also developed an affinity for trash, because it provided a way to mark the length of her swims. "I would set out on my swim and wonder how far I had gone," said Baur. "Then I'd see that beer bottle and say 'good, I'm on pace.' I loved trash!"

The rubbish romance withered when Baur decided she wanted to help the turtles. The trash had to go. One day she was swimming with two friends at a Chatham pond, and they convinced a boater to join their newfound mission.

"There was a guy with a kayak, and we said 'follow us,'" recalled Baur. "Because we'd seen a cell phone and a bikini bottom and a hat. And we got maybe a bushel of trash — hot stuff! And so we said, 'we're the Old Ladies Against Underwater Garbage.'"

With a catchy name like that, you'd figure the group would take off like a rocket. Not exactly. "Nothing happened for two years," said Baur. "It was like a one-off. But then I did another one-off with a conservation group in East Falmouth and two more people joined. Now, there were five of us."

Word got out about the legendary litter-stalkers, and more volunteers came forward. That's when things began to get a bit more organized, with safety training and a readiness swim at the beginning of the season. To become a member of OLAUG, you've got to be able to swim a half-mile in under 30 minutes, have the ability to dive and know how to cut yourself free of fishing line.

There are now about 30 OLAUG members, with a waitlist of others who are eager to get their feet wet. Asked about the special qualities that define this amazing crew of women, who are all 65 or older, member Karen Hunter of Sandwich said, "The first one is enthusiasm. Body strength, intelligence, integrity, passion and the ability to go into the water on days when it's not perfect. Only lightning and cyanobacteria can stop us."

The time for chitchat was over. OLAUG members hit the water at Long Pond, with each small group of swimmers supported by a kayak. Landlubbers lingered on the shore, agog at the pluck of OLAUG, wondering what these nearly-amphibious women would discover.

As he watched, HCT Executive Director Michael Lach pointed out a waterfront, conserved HCT property that is located near Cahoon Road Beach. "Our land stewardship volunteers are mainly focused on cleaning up along roadsides, trails, beaches and along the edges of ponds," he said. "OLAUG takes it below the surface with their immersive pond stewardship. What an inspiration to younger generations to take care of our local ponds."

After about a half hour of diving, retrieving and collecting, OLAUG volunteers were whistled back to shore. They dumped their harvest on an orange tarp and we were introduced to a rogue's gallery of pond offenders: cinder blocks, nip bottles, golf balls and a full jar of Tostitos Chunky Salsa (mild). The distasteful denizens of the deep also included thermometers, goggles, bottles, a pair of shorts and assorted fishing lures.

Thankfully, there was nothing that equaled OLAUG's most celebrated find: a blue toilet that was retrieved from Johns Pond in Mashpee. But it was an impressive haul, nonetheless.

"It's a treasure hunt," Baur said when asked about the joys of these junk-filled escapades. "You get in that water and you don't care if it's cold. You're riveted — there's no past or future, no regrets or obligations, no plans — it's just you and the trash."

But here's the thing that makes OLAUG really shine. "I love the sisterhood," said Baur. "I've never had so many friends in my life."